‘Tes, sir; for the third class there is one.’
‘Let him have it, then. Tiernay, you are appointed as aspirant of the third class at the College of Saumur. Take care that the report of your conduct be more creditable than what is written here. Your opportunities will now be considerable, and, if well employed, may lead to further honour and distinction; if neglected or abused, your chances are forfeited for ever.’
I bowed and retired, as little satisfied with the admonition as elated with a prospect which converted me from a soldier into a scholar, and, in the first verge of manhood, threw me back once more into the condition of a mere boy.
Eighteen months of my life—not the least happy, perhaps, since in the peaceful portion I can trace so little to be sorry for—glided over beside the banks of the beautiful Loire, the intervals in the hour of study being spent either in the riding-school, or the river, where, in addition to swimming and diving, we were instructed in pontooning and rafting, the modes of transporting ammunition and artillery, and the attacks of infantry by cavalry pickets.
I also learned to speak and write English and German with great ease and fluency, besides acquiring some skill in military drawing and engineering.
It is true that the imprisonment chafed sorely against us, as we read of the great achievements of our armies in various parts of the world—of the great battles of Cairo and the Pyramids, of Acre and Mount Thabor, and of which a holiday and a fête were to be our only share.
The terrible storms which shook Europe from end to end only reached us in the bulletins of new victories, and we panted for the time when we, too, should be actors in the glorious exploits of France.
It is already known to the reader that of the country from which my family came I myself knew nothing. The very little I had ever learned of it from my father was also a mere tradition; still was I known among my comrades only as ‘the Irishman,’ and by that name was I recognised, even in the record of the school, where I was inscribed thus—‘Maurice Tiernay, dit l’Irlandais.’ It was on this very simple and seemingly unimportant fact my whole fate in life was to turn; and in this wise-But the explanation deserves a chapter of its own, and shall have it.